Fight the Doubting
by Roxal
Summary: 300 word drabble series. They will likely have nothing to do with each other. Warnings: Language. Sexual situations. Status: Ongoing. [AxelRoxas]
1. Measure

1 : Measure+

Axel is sprawled on top of Roxas, pushing him down onto the bed, holding their hands over the blonde's head. He kisses along the younger Nobody's neck--short, frantic kisses, interspersed with nips and licks--then releases a hand and wraps an arm around the boy's back, pulling him up and into himself. Roxas lets out a sigh.

"You know…" he starts, and Axel slows everything, down to his breathing, to hear the younger's soft voice. Roxas looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, showing disinterest that he won't let border on annoyance. "I'd love you more if you weren't so desperate."

Axel stops, staring back at him. Something wells up in him, and he lets his own eyes show traces of anger, even if they're laced with shock. "Maybe I wouldn't be so desperate if you'd told me you love me." There's silence then, and staring, both of them unwavering until Axel finally asks, "Do you?"

Roxas stretches, closes his eyes, opens them, and smiles languidly back at him. "Yeah."

Axel remains still, soaking it in, watching the dark blue eyes of his friend smile sincerely back at him. Slowly, a smile spreads across his own features, and he feels like something's breaking free. His mouth moves on its own then, asking for the thing that could make or break him. "Say it…. Please."

Roxas keeps his smile, softer now, and licks his lips as if to make the passage of the words easier. "I love you."

Axel smiles wider, trailing the hand that had been around the boy's back through his hair. He squeezes Roxas' other hand, fingers still twined together, and kisses his jaw. "I love you, too."

Roxas tilts his head and connects their lips, reveling in the fact that Axel's touches are more measured now.

* * *

This series will be 300 words per chapter, because... because. I get ideas that want to be longer than 100 words but wouldn't be long enough to merit really being a standalone. I think "Stay" is a good example of that. Ah well. Enjoy! And uh, reviews make me happy? ; 

_Won't you tell me what you're thinking of? And would you be an outlaw for my love? If it's so, then let me know. If it's "no," well, I can go. I won't make you_. - Garbage, "Thirteen" That feels like something Axel would say to Roxas. +shuts up+


	2. Need

2 : Need+

Axel clutched Roxas close to him, close to his empty chest and the space that the boy filled. He wondered if he could absorb him; have him fill the space bodily. It sounded crazy, and maybe he _was_ crazy, but he wanted it so badly. He wanted _Roxas_ so badly that it hurt him sometimes, even though the boy was always there. It wasn't enough, though; it was never enough. He wanted Roxas to be a part of himself. They were only half a person on their own; together they could be whole. Roxas made him feel like he had a heart; Roxas could _be_ his heart. He didn't need a true heart if he had him.

"Don't ever leave me," he said to Roxas' hair, "don't ever go, because I don't know what I'd do without you." His fingers gripped and his nose nuzzled and his breath shuddered as he tried his best not to crush the boy. Roxas was so _fragile_, and that scared him sometimes. Sometimes he thought Roxas might break, and that he'd be the one to break him, so he treated the blond like spun glass, putting just enough pressure on him to prove that he was real, but not enough to snap the delicate extremities.

Roxas barely moved in response, having been asleep for hours beside the redheaded Nobody. This was the only time Axel thought it was safe to tell Roxas how he felt: when he couldn't hear. It was for the best that he couldn't hear the desperation in Axel's voice, or see the fear painted on his face; the want and the _need_ and the fear he felt. He kissed the younger's temple, threading callused fingers through his hair, whispering things he never thought he'd say before he met the boy.

* * *

I blame this entirely on the Decemberists' "Red Right Ankle," specifically: 

_This is the story of the boys who loved you  
Who love you now and loved you then  
Some were sweet, and some were cold and snuffed you  
And some just laid around in bed.  
Some had crumbled you straight to your knees  
Did it cruel, did it tenderly  
Some had crawled their way into your heart  
To rend your ventricles apart  
This is the story of the boys who loved you_

This is basically unfiltered stream of consciousness. Sorry if it seems rough.


	3. Scars

**Warning** for implied abuse.

3 : Scars+

"Roxas must be a real animal in bed," Demyx comments offhandedly, eyeing the edges of fresh scratches visible near the neckline of Axel's coat.

Axel flinches at the words and shrugs, the action raising the collar just enough to hide the thin red lines. "Yeah," he says distantly, and Demyx suddenly notices that everything about the man is distant; removed, and it's a little unsettling.

"Hey man," Demyx asks, placing a careful hand on the redhead's shoulder, "you all right?" There's a note of concern in his voice as Axel continues to stare at nothing.

Suddenly, though, he's his usual sarcastic self, shaking the musician's hand from his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why the hell wouldn't I be?" he says with a smirk, though it's forced, and something dangerous seems to be lurking just below it.

"I… I dunno," Demyx says quickly, looking again at Axel's chest, though the marks are completely hidden now. "I just… you kinda zoned out when I asked about those scratches…." He makes eye contact with the redhead. "Those _are_ from Roxas, right?"

Axel's head snaps to attention. "Drop it, Demyx," he says curtly, green eyes cold and narrowed as he stares the other down and the danger from before seems to be growing. Demyx stares back at him for a moment, his own eyes wide, realization dawning and pity and fear creeping in before they dart away and he stares instead at his own fidgeting hands. There's a brief, uncomfortable silence then in which they both try to ignore the other as best they can but are unable. Demyx finally breaks it.

"Don't think he loves you, man," he says, just loud enough for Axel to hear.

Axel sighs in response, suddenly weary and looking both older and younger than he is. "I know."

* * *

I have a weird relationship with abuse. I know it's a terrible thing (trust me, I know), but... I like to write about it. Sometimes. I dunno. I like raw emotions, and abuse brings them out.

A lot of people would probably say that Axel is the "man" in this relationship; the "seme", the dominant one, etc. But come on, guys. Axel is totally whipped.


	4. Pretty

4 : Pretty+

It was late, and most of the members of the Organization had gone to bed, but Roxas had said he wasn't tired. Axel, although tired himself, didn't want to leave the younger Nobody alone, aware that thinking on his own was a dangerous pastime for the boy; it didn't take long for his thoughts to turn to his purpose and subsequently to a solo search for answers.

So Axel followed the black-cloaked figure, through glaring white halls and up stairs, until he stepped outside onto a ledge and sat down. The redheaded man sat beside him, smiling, trying to keep his spirits up. They struck up a conversation quickly, talking about everything from how the leather of their coats chafed to the explosion heard from Vexen's laboratory earlier that day.

Axel recounted the tale, complete with impersonations of the scientist's botched attempt at hiding the remnants of the experiment from the Superior. He laughed at the memory, loud and reckless, though dulled by tiredness. Roxas laughed too—for the first time that night—his eyes bright and mouth stretched in a smile.

Suddenly, Axel stopped laughing. A moment later, Roxas stopped laughing as well, feeling a gloved hand under his chin; a thumb tracing his lower lip. "Um," Roxas started, but was cut off by the older Nobody.

"You're very pretty," Axel said, smiling softly at him.

Roxas' mind shut down. "Excuse me?"

"You're very pretty," Axel repeated, "when you smile." He smiled wider for emphasis, still holding Roxas' chin.

"Th-thank you," he stuttered after a moment, smiling weakly, acutely aware of their proximity.

"You're welcome," the redhead replied, releasing Roxas' face. He sighed then, leaning forward. Roxas stared, mind overrun by thoughts of "he's going to kiss me," and the strange thing was that it wasn't entirely unwelcome. He closed his eyes, waiting for the impact of lips on his, but instead felt a weight settle on his shoulder.

He opened his eyes to see that Axel had fallen asleep on him. He scoffed.

"Idiot," he murmured affectionately, threading his fingers through red hair, "I think you're pretty too."

* * *

I cheated. Fifty words over. But...! I cut out as much as I could, and it just wasn't long enough to really be a oneshot, so a 350-word drabble it is. 

I put too many weird restrictions on myself.

I am shocking myself with the fluff lately. +pets Roxas' lil head+

Roxas: Hiss!

Axel, put a leash on that thing! >.>

Also, I so need to work on my openings. I'm satisfied with my endings, but the openings... +cringecringecringe+**  
**


	5. Words

5 : Words+

Roxas says he loves Axel, but he doesn't. Not really. He loves things _about_ Axel—the way he looks under the heart-shaped moon, like he's standing on the edge of greatness, or after a good fuck, dirty and sated and _perfect_—but he doesn't love Axel's _being_. Of course, Nobodies don't _have_ beings, so it would be impossible for him to love Axel anyway. At the same time, they tell him he isn't capable of love. Assuming that's true, he can't even love the things _about_ Axel that he thinks he does, and all this thinking is wearing him out, so he burrows into the arms of the one he doesn't love, and whispers the empty words, just because he can.

Axel repeats them back with a "too" at the end, reflecting the words but not the sentiment. Sometimes Roxas thinks that when Axel says he loves him he _means_ it, and that just makes things worse. If Axel can mean it, why can't he? Axel should be just as incapable of feeling as Roxas is, but nothing in him displays it. Axel is so painfully alive that it hurts Roxas, and maybe that's the jolt he needs to make him realize that he _does_ feel these things. They're not just phantoms of a forgotten life; automatic responses generated to be appropriate for the situation.

Roxas runs a hand over Axel's shoulder, into his hair, turning the man's face toward him. Bright green eyes look to him, flat and deep and full; full of something he can't place but knows too well. He says the words again, watching Axel's eyes; the flat surface rippling as the corners turn up in a smile, soft, amused. Axel repeats the words back, and Roxas thinks, for once, that they have meant every word.


	6. Three

6 : Three+

"I love you-!"

It just sort of… slips out, tumbling out of Axel's mouth like a marble through his fingers, falling forever as he watches, helpless to stop it, then lands with a hard _thunk_ on the floor.

Roxas stares at him, eyes hard—fixed—as he stands frozen in his previous effort to walk away. Axel's breathing has sped up, short pants working through his parted lips, expression lost. He wants to take it back; wants to run away; wants to repeat it over and over until Roxas finally understands. He can't stand the silence that's stretching now, opening a canyon that will soon be too wide to jump. He has to act _now_.

His movements are jerky; weighted as he walks toward the boy, gaze still focused on dark blue eyes that watch him just as intently back. When his hands finally reach out and grab Roxas' shoulders, Axel falls to his knees and clutches him around the chest, burying his face in black leather. "I love you," he says again, voice choked, and distantly he can tell that he's crying, but he doesn't care. "I love you. I love you I love you I love you…."

Axel doesn't know what to expect, but he certainly isn't prepared for the feeling of warm arms encircling his shoulders, pulling him closer. A sigh ruffles his hair as thick fingers thread through it, stroking reassuringly.

"I know," Roxas says gently, "I knew." One hand trails down Axel's jaw, stopping under his chin to lift his face. Blood-shot green meets calm blue until Roxas' eyes slide closed and he places a kiss on the elder's forehead. "Please forget me," he murmurs against smooth skin. Axel almost laughs.

"I can't." He receives a tight squeeze in response.

"I can't forget you either."


	7. Dirty

**WARNING**: This story deals with their age difference, so if that's a sensitive topic for you, don't read it.

* * *

+7 : Dirty+

Roxas rides him like a pro, a champ, and Axel can't help but think that someone that young shouldn't be so skilled at this, but at the same time he knows that it's all his fault. He never should've asked the younger Nobody to sleep with him, and he never should've let him when the boy agreed to it. Now Roxas bounces in his lap like the gleeful child he is and Axel can't help but think that this is wrong.

_I'm a pervert, a letch_, he thinks, turning his head away from the pale skin before him; tuning out the entirely erotic moans the blond is emitting. Roxas notices and takes initiative, thrusting down harder onto the redhead's cock, driving it deeper into himself.

"Look at me," he rasps, sliding a hand down Axel's broad chest, from shoulder to pelvis, tangling his fingers in burgundy hairs. He tugs lightly, making the elder gasp as he turns darkened green eyes back to ivory flesh. Roxas smirks at the other's hazy expression and starts to touch himself, carefully maintaining eye-contact as he grips his erection and begins to pump himself in time with his downward thrusts. 

"Roxas…" Axel trails as he slides his hands up and down the blond's spread thighs. The younger tosses his head back, taking him harder, faster. Axel flinches again at how _young_ he looks, and how filthy and wrong and oh _fuck_ he's going to come.

In the moments after orgasm, when Roxas cuddles into the older Nobody's chest without bothering to clean up or get dressed, Axel can't help but think that maybe none of this matters. They can't go to heaven or hell anyway, and besides, he's been living in his personal hell for years; he might as well make the most of it.


	8. Heart

8 : Heart+

It didn't happen often, but when it did it was always unsettling. The first time was downright startling; something Axel had never experienced with another Nobody.

Axel entered Roxas' room to find the blond sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. Lifting an eyebrow, he approached, a casual "What's wrong, baby?" on his lips.

It was then that he realized Roxas was crying.

"Roxas?" Axel asked, sitting down beside him and rubbing the boy's back, "Roxas, what's the matter?"

Roxas clutched to him then, like a drowning man, shuddering as he tried to speak. "It's my—" he started, but the words died is his throat, choking him and making the sobs come harder, racking his body as he held tighter to the older Nobody.

Axel held him back, drawing on what little memories of "comfort" he had, stroking fingers through mussed blond hair and whispering softly into the boy's ears: "Hush, it's ok. You're ok. Everything's gonna be fine," he recited, over and over, until the younger's breathing began to even out, his body stilling as his cries ceased. Roxas looked up at his elder then, cheeks still tear-stained even when Axel tried to wipe them away. "Are you alright?" the redhead asked, still holding him even though the boy had let go.

Roxas managed a kind of twisted, sad smile as he told him "no," looking away from Axel's concerned face.

"What's wrong, Roxas?" Axel asked again.

"It's my h—" he managed, until he bit his lip, eyes shut tight.

Axel drew him into a tight hug, stroking the base of his neck. "It's ok," he said, "you don't have to tell me. Just let me be there if you need me."

Roxas nodded wordlessly, returning the embrace as he would each time after.


	9. Everything

9 : Everything+

"Axel…."

And just like that, he remembers. He remembers smiles and laughter; he remembers late nights and failed pranks; he remembers anger and yelling. Beyond that, he sees faded images of soft eyes and large hands, lips curving up in a rare genuine smile and distorting violet tattoos. He feels phantom touches of fingertips on his face and arms around his waist before lips lean in and caress his own. He remembers it all, the actions repeated a million times over until it tears him apart that he could've forgotten at all.

He doesn't remember everything, though. Axel can see it in his eyes. He remembers the little things; the physical acts and the expressions but he doesn't remember the emotion. He remembers life but not love, and Axel may as well still be a stranger to him. If he had a heart, he knows it would be breaking, but he only feels more emptiness, so he smiles.

"Let's me again, in the next life." He's grinning, and something feels irrevocably wrong about that, but he doesn't pay it any mind, because Roxas is smiling back at him. One last time.

"Yeah, I'll be waiting," he replies, like it's possible, like it's going to happen, like he doesn't know what's going to happen to him in the next room, when that was all he'd talk about sometimes: meeting his other and rejoining and finally getting a heart, a _true_ heart, because the one he shared with Axel wasn't enough, no matter how much he wanted it to be. Still, Axel can't help but be happy for him. He can't help but smile, and he can't help but laugh as he tells him:

"Silly, just because _you_ have a next life…" And then he fades, and Roxas forgets all over again.


	10. Aimee

10 : Aimee+

"Today's the fourth of July. Another June has gone by, and when they light up our town I just think, 'what a waste of gunpowder and sky.'"

There aren't many advantages, Roxas thinks, to being Number XIII, but one is certainly that he isn't next to Demyx's room. The man is constantly playing that noise he calls "music".

"I'm certain I am alone in harboring thoughts of our home. It's one of my faults that I can't quell my past."

Actually, it probably isn't on constantly. It's probably only to drown out the noise he and Axel make when they're in the redhead's room. They go there almost solely to fuck, and a few minutes after they start, without fail, music starts drifting through the wall.

"I ought to have gotten it gone."

Roxas thrusts into Axel harder, hoping the thumping of the headboard against the wall will mask the words, until it's just muffled bass.

"Oh, baby, I wonder if when you are older, some day, you'll wake up, and say 'my God, I should have told her; what would it take? But now here I am and the world's gotten colder, and she's got the river down which I sold her.'"

Because he can't stand it. Because sometimes it gets to him.

"So that's today's memory lane."

Because the songs are always about love.

"With all of the pathos and pain."

And more often than not, they're also about loss.

"Another chapter in a book where the chapters are endless, and they're always the same."

Maybe Demyx is trying to muffle the noise, or maybe, he thinks, Demyx is trying to stop him.

"A verse, and a verse, and refrain."

But that's silly. No one knows that he's leaving.

"Oh, baby, I wonder if when you are older…."

* * *

I had to do something with this song or it would never leave me alone. It's "Fourth of July," by Aimee Mann. It's not really very Axel/Roxas at all, but it's still about loss. 


End file.
